


Waste It Wisely

by Neon_Empire



Category: EXO (Band), iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Death, Gay, Horror, Hospitals, M/M, Road Trips, Romantic Comedy, Sad, Sex, Terminal Illnesses, Tragic Romance, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-08-23 17:22:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neon_Empire/pseuds/Neon_Empire
Summary: From the moment he was born, June was given an expiration date. The doctors said that with the severity of his condition, he would die before he learned how to walk. When he celebrated his 5th birthday, they told him he might never go to high school. Now at 21, June is told that he might not make it to 22. It's the same story, only this time, he believes them. Having lived in the shadow of death all his life, he thought he was ready until he meets a mysterious stranger with a condition worse than his. For the first time ever, he doesn't want to let go.





	1. Don't Step on My Cord.

Why are so many people afraid of needles?   
  
  
Every single day, people are surrounded by things that can kill them. They walk next to giant vehicles that can run them over. Or smoke cigarettes that have actual poison in them. Eat foods with chemicals they can't even pronounce. Stand over fires too cook. People carry guns in their bags, run red lights, do flips in the air, ski down mountains(or climb them). They light fireworks in their hands, drink until they can't walk, have sex with total strangers.  
  
  
But when a nurse walks in with a needle, it can fuck up a persons entire day.   
  
  
 _"Oh my god, I ju-I need a minute okay?"_ says the girl in her mid-twenties. It's a just a flu shot, and she's probably had them all throughout her life. She's healthy, beautiful, and gets her eyebrows tweezed monthly. She even has a small tattoo of a butterfly on her wrist. Yet, she's on the verge of tears as the nurse sets everything up.   
  
  
Most terminally ill patients would roll their eyes. It's really pathetic to see something like this when you're used to getting shots every single day. Not June. He grins widely, watching as the girl nearly has a panic attack. It's fascinating to him, probably because he can't remember being afraid of needles. He grew up with them. 

  
The pharmacy is crowded today. Flu shots are in effect and everyone is here to get one before Flu Season really kicks off.   
  
  
"Next."   
  
  
June steps forward, pulling his wallet out. "What's on the menu this evening, sir?"   
  
  
The pharmacist grins. "You're favourite dish." He sets four bags of pill bottles down on the counter. "It's good to see you back here again. That last stay was a long one, eh?"   
  
  
He shrugs, swiping his card. "A bit longer than the one before," he clears his throat, feeling a bit strange. "I'm still waiting on the results from my last tests. If everything turns out okay, I'll be cleared to take that trip to Boston." He looks to his side, finally realising what's wrong. He's no longer getting oxygen from his nasel cannula because the young woman who just got a flu shot is stepping on his cord. That's right. Her shiny, over prices heel is planted right on it.   
  
  
"Ah, Boston is nice this time of year. But you should make a trip to New York if you can. Nothing beats Rockerfeller Center during the holidays." Larry the pharmacist hands him the reciept. "Stay healthy."   
  
  
June grins. "Always." He says, however, he can't leave. Not until this woman gets off his damn cord. "Excuse me." He waits. "Miss, excuse me. Can you..." He tugs at his cord but it's no use. She too busy texting on her phone, telling whoever about her near death experience with the flu shot. "HEY!" She jumps and turns to face him.   
  
  
"What?!" She asks, her flailing hand yanking the cord right off his face. June winces, his ears red from both anger and humiliation. It's not like he's the most subtle person walking around. Everyone is looking at the young man hooked up to oxygen. "Oh my god, I'm _so_ sorry." She reaches down to pick up the bag of pills for him. "I didn't even see you there! Is there anything I can do?"  
  
  
"Yeah, there is." He points at her foot, which is still on his damn cord. "Don't step on my cord."   
  
  
Everyone in the pharmacy is mortified. Except for Larry, who has known June since they were in middle school. He's used to watching June leave people speechless and finds it highly amusing. "See you later." He says cheerfully.   
  
  
June makes it back to his car, exhausted. He feels like he just ran a mile at top speed. It's only been an hour since he left his house and it feels like he's been out all day.   
  
  
Of course, it wasn't always like this. He used to be _almost_ normal. When he was young- really young, he could jump around and play like most normal kids. A year ago, he could walk the mall with his friends. Sit through an entire lecture. Go swimming at the beach. The oxygen was something that he only needed when he was home.   
  
  
Now it was different. His oxygen tank went whereever he did. It's not like he would die or anything without it, but his O2 levels could drop dramatically after about twenty minutes of not having it. He'd start to get irritable, a little dizzy, maybe even tired. Worst of all, it made him stand out in a way he didn't like. People reacted more to seeing him with an oxygen tank than they would seeing an amputee, or someone in a wheelchair. It was the fact that he couldn't breathe enough on his own to keep him alive. When most people saw it, their first thought was 'Cancer'. The poor guy had lung cancer. Cancer was bad, but it wasn't the only deadly disease out there.  
  
  
He always knew that his disease would kill him. What he didn't expect was for things to decline so fast. Cystic Fibrosis gave him expiration date from the moment he was born. At first the doctors didn't even think he would make it an age where he could walk. Everyone said that he was a fighter. A survivor. But it never really felt that way. He never went charging into battle with a sword. All he did was continue is treatments. Show up to his appointments. Take whatever pills he had too. Go through with the surgeries. Tell his mother when he wasn't feeling good.   
  
  
The expiration date kept changing. Now he was 21 and his lungs weren't doing so great. He said yes to the treatment, but the treatment wasn't there. His name was on a list. Even if he _did_ get a lung donor, there was no guarantee it would work. If it did, the debt alone would kill him. He would still be on other pills for the rest of his life to make sure his body didn't reject the lungs. He would need to live right next to a hospital that could help him if anything went wrong.   
  
  
In a way, allowing the disease to 'win' would be the easy way out.   
  
  
But he was scared. He didn't want to die. Yes, he prepared for the inevitable. That's why they use the word 'terminal'. Death has been a normal conversation ever since he was little. No one ever tried to shield him from it. That didn't mean he was ready for it. His body was ready while his soul wept for all the things he would never do in life.   
  
  
He climbs into his car. A used, 2012, Jeep Grand Cherokee that was some awful tan color. He bought it with all the money he had saved up from his part time job(back when he could work). It wasn't great but he loved it.   
  
  
"Shit," he mumbles to himself when he realises the corner of that womans heel caused the cord to break. He reaches into his duffle bag and starts to change it. Thats when his phone starts to ring. "Hello?" He asks, using the car speaker.   
  
  
 _"Where are you?"_ His mother asks.  
  
  
He grins. "Mexico, buying a tiger." He replies casually. He finishes setting up his cord, then starts to drive. It's getting dark early now.   
  
  
His mother sighs, _"Just make sure it's house trained,"_ she replies, before getting on with what she really wants to say. _"You're results came back and... it's not good."_ This is a conversation that most people would want to have in person. Sitting at a table. Surrounded by loved ones for support. That's not the case when this type of conversation has happened dosens of times before. What his mother doesn't know is; this time, he truly believes it. _"It's not even good that you're driving right now. We're going to have to figure something out."_  
  
  
"What do you mean I can't drive? I'm driving right now and I'm fine." He can't hide the upset in his voice. No more driving? This was his tiny slice of freedom. This car was his first ever shot at being independent.   
  
  
She quickly tries to explain,  _"With the way things are, it's just not safe anymore."_  
  
  
"No. This is- this is just another thing. I know what this means. First I can't drive, then I can't go on walks anymore. Soon, I won't be able to work at all and they'll want me to just sit in a wheelchair to recieve treatment..." He closes his eyes. This is it. It's no longer just something he was born with. It's not just cystic fibrosis. There is another word for what's going on with him. End-stage lung disease.   
  
  
 **End**. He's nearing it and there is nothing he can fucking do.   
  
  
 _"I know you're upset, baby. We aren't going to take your car away. Well just limit your driving a little. Maybe it will be okay if you just have someone in the car with you."_ She tries.   
  
  
June chews on his tongue, feeling the wetness in his throat building. "Fuck..." he mumbles. The bubbles are rising. His throat is begging to cough. But he manages a quick. "I have to go," then ends the call just as it reaches the surface. His body literally punishes him for trying to hold it back. The coughing is endless and unrestrained.   
  
  
He pulls the car over, opens the door and leans out, coughing up everything he can. He coughs until his vision starts to dim because he can't get a decent breath in. His stomach feels sick. Will he vomit or pass out? In his mind he places a bet. _'Maybe both. Heh. Why not multitask?'_ He thinks. He's been doing it his entire life; living and dying at the same time.   
  
  
Luckily, it's neither. He closes his eyes, allowing the icey air caress his face. The fresh air feels nice. Summer is over and fall has officially arrived. It's his favorite time of year, and now he wonders if it will be his last time experiencing it.   
  
  
He uses the light from his phone to see what exactly he coughed up(yeah, it's gross but who doesn't take a peak), when he hears movement from the bushes. His first thought; **monster** , run! He laughs a little at his own sillyness.   
  
  
....  
  
  
Then he hears it again.  
  
  
 _'Did I hit something?'_ He wonders as he grabs his bag and gets out of the car. He _was_ having a really bad fit, so he wouldn't even know if he grazed someone while pulling off the road. "Great," he says outloud, "what a way to tell my mom she was right." He can imagine it now. Showing up at home with a big, stupid smile on his face. _'Hey, mom, here's my keys. I hit someone with my car, so I guess you won this argument.'_    
  
  
"Hello?" He starts to walk towards the bushes. Was it a dog? He really hopes it wasn't.   
  
  
The hairs on the back of his neck stand as the wind feels a bit more icey. His thoughts from earlier come back. He didn't hit anything. But something is there... watching him.   
  
  
Another twig snaps, this time in the bush he's standing right next too.   
  
  
That's all it takes for him to decide that he didn't hit anything and this was all a trap. He rushes back into his car, slamming the door shut. He struggles to put the car in drive. He hits the gas, screaming when something large jumps out in front of the car. It rolls up over the car, cracking the windshield, and falls behind it. June's foot hits the break, his coughing starting up again at the worst possible time.   
  
  
That was definitely not a human. He sits in his car as his coughing fit settles, too afraid to move. Should he just back up over it? Make sure it's dead and never talk about this to anyone.   
  
  
But when he looks in his rearview mirror, he doesn't see a monster. Just a foot. A human foot.   
  
  
"No!" He starts getting out of his car, panicked. It was all just a hallucination. Probably from his coughing fit. He drags his bag with him too see the damage, only to stop. This guy is _naked_. Just like in those movies when the werewolf changes back to human form. "OH MY GOD! You were a werewolf!" He spins around, trying to process all this. "It's like in those horror movies. After the werewolf dies, they change back." He licks his lips, staring at the body. "Fuck, wait, does that mean this still counts as murder? They never go that far in movi-GAH!" He yanks the oxygen tank out of his bag, ready to hit this guy over the head. It moved. He moved.   
  
  
 _The werewolf is still alive._


	2. Clear Again.

For the first time in months, he was aware of everything that was happening.   
  
  
It didn't matter that he felt wrecked, or that he was obviously not in his house. All that mattered was that he finally had control over his own body again.   
  
  
Kai was no longer trapped inside a monster.   
  
  
"...I'll hit you! Don't you dare get up." A human is shouting at him. The guy is more scared than angry. Kai's predator instincts tell him everything he needs to know about this person. He's ill, _very_ ill. Not only does he smell like a hospital, but Kai can hear the rattling in his lungs where mucus is building up. The quick beats of a tired heart. _We wouldn't even have to chase him_ , his monster coos, _but it would be fun to see him try to escape_. Kai shakes his head at the lust that's building up from the thought of chasing his prey.  
  
  
This guy wouldn't last a minute.  
  
  
He looks around. It's nighttime and they are across from a closed gas station. The only lights are the orange street lights. There are skid marks on the ground indicating what happened. He was hit by a car-not _him_ -the werewolf side. If only that was a cure.   
  
  
"So you want me to just lay here naked while you threaten to hit me with..." Kai peaks over at him, "your oxygen tank?" He purses his lips.   
  
  
The human thinks for a moment. "Yeah. I mean, if you're going to turn into a monster again."   
  
  
Kai slowly sits up. "Oh, I'm not. But you should give me a ride to make up for hitting me with your car." It's a long shot. This guy would be smart to just hop in his car and take off. There's no way Kai would chase him in this state. But it's worth asking if it means not having to try and break into that gas station to get clothes. He still wants to get into Boston University next fall.  
  
  
"Hitting you with my car? You were chasing me! Like a _dog_. Why would I let you in my car?"   
  
  
For a moment, Kai is speechless. His beast really was trying kill this poor human! How sadistic. Either way, he needs a ride and this guy hasn't run away yet. His lips curve into a smirk as he falls back onto the ground. "AH!" He reaches down to dramatically grab his leg and starts wincing. "UGH, I can't believe you hit me with your car! Why aren't you calling an ambulance? What's wrong with you? Should you even have a license?" He groans, then looks up at the human. His reaction is priceless. "That's what I thought."   
  
  
Without saying another word to him, Kai walks over to the passanger side. He's about to get in when something is thrown at him. A pair of shorts? They smell like day old laundry. He gives the human a blank stare.   
  
  
"I don't care. If I'm going to drive you home, the last thing I want is you leaving skid marks on my seat."   
  
  
Kai scoffs, putting on the shorts. "I'm not a dog. I'm a werewolf. It's different."   
  
  
"Do you really think I care about your monster-identity-crisis?" The human rolls his eyes, getting into the car and shoving his oxygen tank back into his bag. "So, where too? The pound?"   
  
  
Kai rolls his eyes at the sarcastic remark. "216 Forest Road."  
  
  
He stares.   
  
  
 "Great Barrington." He tells him.   
  
  
"Where the fuck is that?"   
  
  
"Uh, Massachusetts." Kai replies sarcastically. ' _Does this dumbass really need directions? I know I didn't travel that far. Doesn't he have a GPS.'_ When he doesn't say anything, Kai begins to feel nervous. "What? Where are we? Outside of Boston?" He glares out the window. It all looks different. Where are all the trees?   
  
  
"Dude, this is LA. You're in California."   
  
  
It takes him a moment to process that. California. When he turned, he was home. ' _How long have I been running around as a monster? Or worse, how many people have I killed?'_  He looks down at the bag on the floorboard. Panic sets in. This human can't take him back. He won't make the trip. He opens the door.   
  
  
"Wait, what are you doing?" His cold hand grabs Kai's arm.   
  
  
Kai looks at him. "You wouldn't make the trip." He explains. "I-I have to figure something out. I have to get back somehow." He runs a hand through his hair. Half of him wants to cry, and the other half(the monster) wants to turn again.   
  
  
"Neither will you. You don't even have clothes. Do you have anyone that you can call?"   
  
  
He shakes his head.   
  
  
"Close the door. You're wrong. I can make the trip. I'll just have to stop by my apartment first." He sounds so sure. So... determined. Kai suspects that there is another reason behind him wanting to go on this little roadtrip with a werewolf. Whatever it is, he's not in a position to say no.   
  
  
*  
  
  
The apartment is a small studio, on the first floor, filled with dreams and medical equipment. There is a large map on the wall with small stickers in certian areas. Places he's been, or places he wants to go?  It seems like a waste of life. If it weren't for the sickness, this guy would be unstoppable.  Probably popular, too. But not in this state. His glasses are something a grandfather would wear, he has oxygen being pumped into his nose, and his clothes are a size too big. Really, it's a shame because all of this hides the fact that underneath it all, he's a very attractive human.  
  
  
"Hurry up and shower. I don't want you stinking up my car." He says.   
  
  
Kai catches the towel that's thrown his way. "What's your name?"   
  
  
"June. You?"   
  
  
"Kai."   
  
  
"Okay, Kai. Better hurry up before I change my mind and call the police." June grins.  
  
  
  
The shower takes longer because there is so much dirt to wash off. ' _Maybe he's going to call the cops while I'm in here._ ' He wouldn't be surprised. The fact that he was making this human help him was fucked up. His werewolf form was _hunting_ June and almost killed him. Now he was using him to drive across the country, knowing that he's sick. ' _I wonder how far I could get if I stole his car?'_  
  
  
What's worse, stealing a car from a sick person, or using them to drive across the country?   
  
  
He makes a deal with himself. If June is asleep when he gets out, he'll grab the keys and go.  
  
  
But he's not. In fact, he looks wide awake when Kai enters the room. The car is already packed and he notices that some of the medical equipment in his room is gone too. 

  
"Why are you doing this? You could have called the police while I was in the shower."   
  
  
He shrugs. "Don't worry about it. Maybe I'm just a good person." He stands up and hands Kai a stack of clothes. "And it's fun to be around someone who more fucked up condition." He grins. "I'll wait in the car."   
  
  
Kai watches him go, then puts on the clothes he's been given. They fit nicely and smell new. When he checks, he finds tags on them. _Strange_. He jumps when he hears a honk from outside. "I'm coming." He mumbles.  
  
  
*  
  
  
The car ride is silent for only the first twenty minutes or so.  
  
  
"So... how'd you end up like this?"   
  
  
Kai shrugs. "I was 16 and I was outside shoveling snow. I cut my hand open pretty bad and I guess that it was hungry. My Aunt shot at the thing and it disappeared. I was rushed to the hospital but no one believed my Aunt. When I came out of it, they were already telling me that it was a bear." He rubs at the scar on his shoulder. "My parents died when I was really little and the state didn't want to leave me with my aunt. She was sick. The last thing we needed was for them to think she was crazy."   
  
  
June looks over at him. "What happened when you changed?"   
  
  
"Actually, I didn't. Other things happened. I went through a crazy growth spurt. My senses were intense. I got _really_ strong and had to quit the wrestling team because I broke a guys arm. Around full moons I was... what's the word? Irritable."   
  
  
"So what finally caused you to turn?"   
  
  
"The last thing I remember is coming home from school and..." He clears his throat. "Hey, what day is it?" He feels like he should've asked that a long time ago.  
  
  
June chews on the inside of his cheek. He looks as if he doesn't want to tell him. "November. 2018." He says, a bit reluctantly.   
  
  
Kai closes his eyes, his head pressed against the window. He doesn't say anything else. If he says anything right now, he'll break.   
  
  
Three years.   
  
  
He's been running around as a monster for three years. 


End file.
